


To Fall on Her Sword

by Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold (manka)



Series: Manka Writes Friend Fiction [10]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arguing, Brosca has had enough, Dwarf Culture & Customs, F/F, Femslash February, Kissing, Multiple Wardens (Dragon Age), Orzammar Culture and Customs, Post-Betrayal, The Aeducans are fucked up, Warden Aeducan - Freeform, Warden Brosca (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29571363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manka/pseuds/Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold
Summary: Natia Broscaknewthat letter Gorim Saelac gave Sereda Aeducan was gonna cause problems. She just didn't expect the problem to be Sereda gaining a bit of a death wish. And, by the Ancestors, Natia has saved Sereda's life enough that if anyone is going to kill the princess, it's gonna be Natia.
Relationships: Female Aeducan/Female Brosca (Dragon Age)
Series: Manka Writes Friend Fiction [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022509
Comments: 7
Kudos: 6





	To Fall on Her Sword

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaijuburgers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaijuburgers/gifts).



> Thank you friend for this lovely prompt! For my Femslash February celebrations may you have angry dwarf ladies with trauma arguing and kissing!

Natia knew that letter was gonna be trouble the second that warrior handed it over to Sereda. 

Not that she could read it even if she got her grubby hands on it. Natia’s reading lessons were only brief moments snatched by the fire at night with Sereda, which meant she was just beginning to recognize the shapes of letters on signs in Denerim. She couldn’t even hazard a guess as to what they _meant_. 

But there were other things Natia understood very well. She recognized the shocked relief on the warrior’s bearded face when he saw Sereda’s blonde braids. She knew the emotion choking his voice meant he was on the verge of tears when he fell to his knees in the marketplace before their exiled princess. She even recognized the way he stumbled to his feet, it meant a wound hadn’t properly healed and now never would. 

She saw the way Sereda reached for him greedily, the way her eyes flashed with concern when he tripped on his aching joints. 

More importantly she knew the parchment he handed over, rolled into a tight little tube, was the creamy, expensive kind that cost the same as a full meal in Dust Town. The expression on his face spoke volumes, none of it good. The wax sealing it shut had the crest of Orzammar embossed within it. 

...And Natia knew that the tiny tremor in Sereda’s fingers was the only hint of emotion the princess would show as she took the paper and tucked it away with a brisk thank you. 

If that was the last of it, Natia would be happy. But Natia also knew it wasn’t going to be the last of it. She just didn’t know exactly what kinda trouble it was gonna cause until they had Denerim at their backs and were heading deep into the Brecilian Forest. 

Natia didn’t realize that Sereda had lost her damn mind. 

The princess fought like a warrior, Natia always appreciated that about her. Ancestors, it had been the reason she threw her lot in with an exiled royal rather than risk imprisonment. Sereda had confessed once that she’d been meant to lead her father’s army, and Natia could see it. In another world, she’d have been a warrior queen fit for the ballads.

In _this_ world, however, Sereda was a pain in the ass that was going to get Natia killed. 

Sereda threw herself into battle with no thought for strategy. Her warhammer swung into one wolfman’s ugly maw, shield bashed into another. She didn’t pay the slightest attention to the monsters flanking her. She just drove onward in relentless, foolish pursuit of blood. 

If Natia wasn’t there, Sereda would be dead. _Again_. 

But nobody was gonna pin a medal on her Duster chest for keeping the Kinslayer alive. They probably wouldn’t even do it if she managed to help end the Blight and save all these surfacers. Sereda Aeducan could afford to go out in a blaze of glory - they’ll remember her regardless. 

Natia Brosca didn’t have that luxury. So when the last wolf dropped, she turned her ire to the Princess. 

She’d lost her helm somewhere, Stone knew where, and her blonde braids were askew. There was blood running down her cheek, but Sereda’s blue eyes burned with desperation. 

Natia knew that look too. It was the look some of the Dusters got in their eyes when they’d made up their mind to find their last fight. 

“What the _fuck_ is your problem?” Natia asked.

“There were werewolves.” Sereda picked up her helmet and looked at the dented metal critically, pointedly _not_ looking at Natia. “Now there aren’t. Problem solved.”

“Come here,” Wynne ordered Sereda, exasperated. “Your head wound needs tending.” 

“Let her keep it,” Natia declared hotly. “She’s in such a damn hurry to get herself killed, may as well not waste the healing.” 

“ _Natia_ ,” Wynne scolded. 

Notably, Sereda didn’t deny it. She simply glared at Natia across the battlefield. Not to be deterred, Natia glared back. The silence stretched between them until Sten finally broke it. 

“Asala-taar,” he rumbled. “That is what my people call it. The urge to give up because the battle is too much. We cannot afford such an ailment now.” 

_We can’t afford it in you_. 

Sereda with her quick mind. Sereda who knew what to do, how to talk to these nobles, Sereda who was _indomitable_. If Natia lost her, she may as well walk up to the next darkspawn and kindly ask him to finish the job that the Joining had started because there was no way they could do it without her. 

No way _Natia_ could go on without her. 

Wynne’s hands reached for Sereda and she flinched away. “I’m fine.” 

“Like _hell_ you are,” Natia challenged. 

“I’m fine!” Sereda used her best princess voice. It rang off the trees with regal authority, silenced both Wynne and Sten in a moment. 

Natia simply drew herself up to her full height and leveled her dagger in Sereda’s direction before whispering one word. “ _Bullshit_.” 

Sereda cursed under her breath and turned on her heel, vanishing into the trees despite Wynne’s sputtering protests. Sten growled in his own language and Natia moved without thinking. 

“Stay here!” she called behind her, flying after Sereda’s retreat. 

She did not lose this stubborn princess to the Deep Roads. Natia would not lose her here. 

“Can I not have a moment’s peace?” Sereda called over her shoulder, sliding down the riverbank until her boots sunk in the mud. Natia clammored down after her easily, unencumbered by her leathers. 

Her quick fingers twisted into Sereda’s chainmail and tugged. “What was in the letter?” 

“What letter?” Sereda asked through clenched teeth. 

“The one that made you decide to sodding end it all!” 

Sereda whipped out her grip and turned, glaring at Natia. She could see herself reflected in those clear eyes, all frazzled orange hair and reddening face. “It is none of your business.” 

“I saved your life _twice_ , I’m sorta attached to it.” 

“I never asked you to.” 

“Well I did!” Natia yelled, crossing her arms over her chest. “And _I’ll_ be the one that decides when it ends, thank you very much. So come out with it. What did your loyal knight give you?” 

“My loyal- Gorim?” Sereda asked, momentarily perplexed. 

“Yes! The one that looks like he’d throw himself on his blighted sword for you.” Natia sighed, exasperated. She understood _that_ much better than she particularly wanted to. Sereda had that damn effect on people. 

“Gorim was my Second. Before-” 

The pain that crossed Sereda’s face was raw. Violent. _Before_. Before Sereda was banished, before they called her Kinslayer, before she almost died in the Deep Roads. 

Before she picked the Grey Wardens, before she would ever have looked twice at Natia Brosca or the brand on her cheek. 

“My father’s dead,” Sereda said quietly. “I’ll never see him again. The last time he saw me, he sentenced me to death.” 

“So you wanna finish the job in his honor?” Natia asked. “He was a shite father. Lots of people have shite fathers, Sereda. You don’t have to please him, especially not now.” 

“He knew I was innocent.” 

_That_ surprised her. Sereda reached up to her breastplate, touched the space over her heart. Natia wondered if that was where the damning letter was stashed. Sereda’s voice grew hoarse, but she kept talking. “He knew I was innocent, that I didn’t kill Trian, and he exiled me anyway to avoid the scandal.” 

...well, lots of people did have shite fathers. But Sereda’s father was truly the king of shite. 

“He ruined his only daughter’s whole life to avoid a _scandal_?” she asked dumbly.

Tears popped into Sereda’s bright blue eyes, but they didn’t fall. She nodded. “There’s no king now. He’s dead, but they won’t make Bhelen king. The other candidate, Harrowmont, doesn't have enough support. There’s no King, the throne is empty, my father is dead, and I am…” 

She trailed off helplessly and lifted her arms. 

“Better off,” Natia declared, crossing the distance between them to run her gloved fingers over Sereda’s bloodstained cheeks. “You’re better off. You don’t belong to them, not anymore.”

Sereda was _hers_ now, and Orzammar could rip her from Natia’s cold, dead fingers. 

“We have to go back, Natia,” Sereda whispered, tipping her face to nuzzle into the cool leather while her eyes closed. “I have to go back.” 

They did. They both did. “I’ll be with you. I’ll be your new Second, watch.” 

Sereda smiled. “Maybe I can meet your family.” 

That startled a laugh from Natia’s chest. The beautiful, perfect Sereda Aeducan in her former hovel across from her drunk mother and ferociously cunning sister? It was too absurd. “Trust me, you don’t want to meet my family.” 

“Why not?” Sereda asked glumly. “They can’t be worse than mine.” 

Natia took Sereda’s chin in her fingers and guided it to her lips. “Not true,” she murmured softly, “I’m your family now. And I’m pretty sodding great.” 

The smile underneath Natia’s lips when they crashed together tasted like sweet, sweet victory. 

**Author's Note:**

> With love from Pornzammar, 
> 
> [@cartadwarfwithaheartofgold](https://cartadwarfwithaheartofgold.tumblr.com/)


End file.
